Adrift
by Eosophobia-3
Summary: Once again the Tracy brothers are in a spot of bother. What starts off as a relaxing cruise with the five siblings turns into something much more disastrous! I can't stop writing about these brothers being in peril, hope you enjoy it!
1. All Aboard!

**Chapter One: All Aboard!**

"And finally I'd like to thank International Rescue for being with us as we start our exciting journey today! I'm sure you'll give us an outstanding review when the week is over!"

The short, stout man continued to talk to the crowd of around fifty people, his eyes sparkling with anticipation and pride as he described the vessel they were currently on. It was a one of a kind cruise liner, never before had one been able to run on the particular environmentally friendly fuel that this one used and the short man wasn't shy of reminding the passengers of just that every few minutes. This was its maiden voyage and as investors, press and special guests were on this particular journey, he was determined to make it a week to remember.

Scott and his brothers had been invited to enjoy the new ship (and give a review to any press that might ask about it) and they were all currently feeling quite out of place amongst the group of highfalutin passengers. Movie stars, high-flying business men and women and even a rock star were just _some_ of the rich and famous guests aboard the SS Swordfish.

"Why are we here again, Scott?" John asked as he tugged at his tight collar, not used to anything other than his form-fitting space suit.

Scott was equally as uncomfortable in his tuxedo but wore it a little better than his brother, or at least _pretended_ to. He shrugged,

"Lady Penelope asked us to come in her stead. She never asks for favours so we kind of _had_ to."

"Let me rephrase my question," John grumbled, "Why am _I_ here?"

Scott smiled, "If we have to suffer, so do you."

"Wow, thanks big brother," the redhead wandered towards the buffet where Gordon and Alan were already piling their plates high.

Alan smiled through a mouthful of prawns when the astronaut approached and Gordon pointed a cocktail sausage in his direction.

"Where's Virg?"

John shrugged, "I saw him heading onto the deck in the middle of the speech. He looked a little… _green._ "

"Sounds about right," Gordon plucked the sausage from the stick and popped it into his mouth, "He's a real landlubber that one."

* * *

In the cool evening air it was a little easier for Thunderbird 2's pilot to stop his stomach from rolling. As the ship cruised further out to sea, Virgil took one last glance at the shimmering lights of the mainland as it disappeared from view and wished he'd thought of a better excuse to stay back on Tracy Island. He'd tried to convince Scott that one of them should stay behind in case of emergencies but the eldest Tracy had insisted that Kayo and the GDF could cope without them for one week. It was probably true but didn't help ease his twisting gut.

"You'll be fine in a day or so."

Scott's voice made Virgil jump and he turned to face his brother, looking a little green around the gills. As usual, Scott was annoyingly correct; Virgil _would_ be fine in a couple of days but the time leading up to that would be mainly spent leaning over the side of something, whether it be the railings of the ship or the toilet bowl. He nodded feebly and Scott grinned,

"Sure you don't want some lobster?" He thrust said shellfish into Virgil's pale face and chuckled when his broad sibling spun quickly to lean over the edge of the ship. "Maybe later then?"

* * *

Scott used the thumb print scanner on the cabin door to enter the room he and his brothers would be using for the week. For some reason unknown to the eldest Tracy, the organisers of the cruise had decided to give the brothers a family penthouse suite. Perhaps it was to win them over with its plush décor and free compliments or maybe it was one of the only finished rooms. Scott had noticed that quite a few of the rooms were still incomplete and cordoned off to the public. Whatever the case, he wasn't sure whether to be pleased or nervous that he would have to spend the entire week sharing a room with his four brothers. On the one hand, it wasn't often that they got to spend quality time as a family what with the rescuing and one of them being constantly in orbit, and it would be nice to just take a break and enjoy one another's company. On the other hand, however, they all had their own personalities and ideas and being forced to sleep in the same room together for seven nights could become problematic.

Scott was still deep in thought when the others joined him. Alan's eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw the size of the living area. It had two plush L-shaped sofas that faced a giant TV mounted on the wall, under which sat a state of the art gaming system. Off to the side of the sofas was a full sized pool table and a mini-bar and beyond that a kitchenette fully equipped with everything and anything a budding chef would require.

Through another door was the bedroom; five separate beds filled the room but it was such a large space that they didn't feel cramped or cluttered. It was more like an entire house than a cabin on a ship. Two of the beds backed onto a long rectangular window and the other three sat opposite. Gordon launched himself onto one of the beds next to the window where he could see the ocean and Alan claimed the one to his left. Virgil took the bed nearest to the en-suite for obvious reasons and Scott and John accepted the others, not really caring which they got.

* * *

"I could get used to this," Gordon had already changed into his pyjamas and was on his stomach on his bed, staring out into the moonlit ocean through the window.

"One day you're going to wake up as a fish," Alan quipped as he wrestled with his own pyjama top.

Scott popped his head into the bedroom and beckoned the blondes into the living area, "We're going to watch a movie, come on!"

He would never admit it but Scott was actually enjoying having his brothers around him and doing 'normal' stuff. Okay, so the setting wasn't exactly the norm but sitting eating popcorn, watching a movie and teasing each other was something they'd done much more when their father had been around and he missed it. Gordon and Alan plonked themselves on the long sofa – they had all silently decided to share the same one – and John pressed play.

"What're we watching?" Gordon asked, already throwing warm popcorn into his open mouth.

"A new movie, I haven't seen it yet," John answered. Although he spent 99% of his time in the vacuum of space, the redhead did sometimes find time to watch movies and relax a little and he was surprisingly up to date with the new releases.

Scott flicked off the lights as a blackness filled the huge screen and ominous music echoed from the surround sound. A woman in ragged clothes was running through a moonlit forest as some unknown creature pursued her whilst the dramatic music increased in tempo and volume, loud enough that the brothers could feel it in their chests. The femme fatal tripped and Scott rolled his eyes at the cliché as she stumbled to her feet to carry on running for her life. He was never really a fan of horror movies, or movies in general for that matter. His logical brain would never allow him to fully switch off and immerse himself in the narrative and he always ended up analysing every little thing the characters were doing. Alan, on the other hand, was always immediately absorbed into the screen, sometimes a little _too_ much.

Huge claws scraped at the woman's back, drawing blood and she shrieked like a banshee. The youngest Tracy jumped out of his skin and knocked the popcorn from Gordon's hands with a flailing leg.

"Alan!" the aquanaut shook some popcorn from his hair and shoved his brother harshly.

"Oh, come on!" Virgil moaned as Gordon's debris shook onto his lap.

He flicked some of it away, hitting John square in the eye.

"Ow! Virg!" the spaceman slapped his hands to his face and flopped off the end of the sofa like a freshly caught fish making a break for freedom.

"Guys!"

Scott was aiming for his 'authority' voice but he was chuckling too much to fully assert himself. He wasn't even going to _try_ and stop the squabbling, too many times had he stepped into the middle of a brotherly argument and ended up being the bad guy himself. Instead, he turned to Alan who was sitting in the middle of the chaos, knees pulled to his chest and big blue eyes pasted to the TV where the movie was reaching its climax.

The monster had revealed itself; it was a huge, hulking black creature with dripping flesh and long sharp teeth covered in blood. Not particularly realistic but just kind of gross looking. It reminded Scott of a dog he'd once rescued from an oil slick when he was younger. On screen, it cornered the screaming woman and started to eat her as she continued her wailing and the eldest Tracy smirked, _so stupid._ He turned to Alan to exchange a comment about how ridiculous the movie was but his littlest brother didn't seem to be finding it funny. With eyes as wide as saucers, Alan was staring at the screen slack-jawed, completely immersed in the stupidity. Even when the credits began to roll, he remained glued to it, like he was genuinely concerned for the woman's welfare. Perhaps it was because he'd been on so many rescues or maybe he just had really bad taste in movies, Scott thought.

From where he lay sprawled on the plush carpet, John flicked off the TV, plunging the room into total darkness.

"Get your foot out of my face, Gordo!"

"Don't call me Gordo, _Virg_!"

Something clattered and John cursed and then suddenly the lights were back on.

The astronaut stood by the wall holding his foot where he'd whacked it off the pool table as Virgil and Gordon untangled themselves. At some point during the commotion, Alan had shuffled next to Scott on the sofa and now had his arms looped around his brother's in a vice grip, almost to the point that it was painful. The eldest was about to ask him what was wrong but Gordon's exaggerated yawn interrupted him.

"Well, that movie sucked."

"Yeah, John," Virgil chimed, "That was pretty bad."

John sat on the adjacent sofa still rubbing his bruised toe, "It had great reviews! I thought it would be good! Alan looked like he was enjoying it!"

Four sets of eyes wandered to the youngest brother where he was clinging onto Scott's arm like a drowning man on a buoy. He seemed to suddenly realise what he was doing and unwrapped himself quickly before forcing a weak smile onto his freckled face. He shrugged nonchalantly,

"It was okay, nothing special."

Concerned brown eyes glanced down at Alan but Scott didn't add anything, he just let the conversation continue like everything was fine, like his little brother _hadn't_ been totally freaked out by the movie and clung onto him for dear life in the darkness.

* * *

At around quarter to one in the morning the last of the Tracy brothers climbed into bed. Virgil had been the first to go, claiming that he would lose what little remained in his stomach if he stayed awake on the swaying ship any longer. Gordon had started to nod off not long after and Scott dragged his carcass into the bedroom before falling into bed himself. When the eldest didn't return to the living area, Alan shuffled off to bed, his usual buoyant demeanour a little deflated. That left John. The astronaut hadn't had a coherent sleeping schedule in years; being up in space meant no sunrise or sunset and even when he _did_ sleep he was still on high alert for any distress signals. For the sake of trying to be awake at a reasonable time, however, the redhead forced himself into the bedroom and pulled on his pyjamas, which were much more comfortable than his formal wear.

As he was about to climb into the unfamiliar bed something shimmering on the ocean surface outside the window caught his eye. Granted, he didn't have the _greatest_ eyesight in International Rescue what with his prolonged time in space but John was certain he'd seen some sort of craft about two hundred yards from the ship. He padded over to the window, shuffling between the youngest brothers' beds, and was about to investigate further when Alan's hand suddenly clamped around his. John opened his mouth to ask what the heck he was doing but snapped it shut when he saw his youngest sibling was still actually asleep. The blonde's eyebrows were pulled together tightly and he was mumbling something about monsters as he tossed and turned. The movie earlier must have affected him more than he would like to admit. Gently, so as not to wake him, John peeled Alan's fingers from his own and pulled the discarded covers a little tighter over him before turning back to the window.

Nothing.

The moon was full and bright, illuminating as far as the eye could see but whatever had been on the water moments earlier was now nowhere to be seen. There wasn't even a ripple to show that something had been there in the first place and John couldn't help but think that maybe he'd been imagining things with his sleep-deprived eyes.

"What're you looking at, Johnny?"

Scott's croaky tones whispered into the dark room as John made his way back to his bed. He shrugged as he climbed under the covers,

"I thought I saw something. Must have been my imagination."

The eldest was only half listening. He'd been woken up by some sort of sixth sense that told him his littlest brother was in some sort of trouble. It had happened a lot when they were younger; Scott would often find the toddler trying to put something odd in his mouth or climbing somewhere he shouldn't have been. More often than not it woke him in the middle of the night because Alan was having a nightmare or sometimes it was even the youngster himself who would poke his big brother in his dimpled cheek to wake him up and tell him about the monster under his bed. That hadn't happened in years, of course, but something had alerted him now to Alan's distress.

"Alan was having a nightmare I think," John mumbled as he turned onto his side to look over at Scott in the bed next to his, "He was talking about monsters in his sleep."

Slightly relieved that it wasn't anything _actually_ dangerous, Scott lay back and closed his eyes, "I think that movie scared him, he was practically breaking my arm earlier."

A muffled laugh, "Yeah, he looked pretty freaked."

A sudden heaviness overtook the brothers then and they both drifted into sleep much faster than they usually would have in such an unfamiliar place. Perhaps it was the sea air making them so tired.

A few minutes passed and then a whisper came from the other side of the room,

"I was _not_ 'freaked'!"


	2. Phase 1

**Chapter Two: Phase 1**

A pillow to the face was what woke Virgil from his dream about flying toilets. In it he had been floating through a supermarket wearing nothing but his green sash whilst he followed the toilets around the store. Even in the dream he had known it was odd and although he would have liked a _slightly_ more pleasant wake-up call, he was glad to be roused from it nonetheless. He was also extremely glad to be free of seasickness and crossed his fingers for the rest of the journey.

Across the room from where he lay, Alan and Gordon were whacking one another with the plush pillows that had been adorning their beds. Virgil watched as the aquanaut swiped the pillow behind his head, almost revving it up, and then ploughed it into Alan's face with as much force as he could muster. The smaller Tracy stumbled backwards and landed with a _thump_ on the floor.

"Ha!" Gordon chirped, "I win!"

"I demand a rematch!" Alan pouted as he rubbed his sore backside.

"No way! A loser is a loser," Gordon smirked and was about to launch another pillow at his brother when Virgil yanked it from his grasp.

"Winner versus me," the broad sibling grinned wickedly and Gordon jumped back. Only an idiot would face Virgil in _any_ sort of physical brawl.

"Never mind, you win, Alan!" With a squawk, Gordon made a mad dash into the living area, leaving Virgil and Alan laughing at his 'braveness'.

Moments later, Scott emerged from the en-suite with his hair already coiffed and a brightness in his blue eyes that was not meant for so early in the morning. He shook his head at the state of the others and then gestured to John. The astronaut was still fast asleep, snoring lightly, but how he had managed to get into such a position was beyond Scott. John's long legs were draped over the headboard of the bed and his arms were dangling off the edge, along with his messy crop of red hair. He looked like someone had tried to win him in a claw machine but he'd fallen at the last minute.

"Someone want to wake him up before the breakfast bar closes? Preferably _before_ he breaks his neck."

An evil grin spread across Virgil's face and he inhaled deeply before letting his booming voice encapsulate the room.

"HULL BREACH! WE HAVE AN OXYGEN LEAK IN SECTOR SEVEN!"

With the grace of a headless chicken, John spiralled, arms and legs flailing wildly as he slipped completely off the bed. His aquamarine eyes bulged and he grabbed feebly for something to stop him drifting into space. The roaring laughter coming from the other occupants of the room soon brought him back down to Earth, however, and his face turned the same shade as his hair, which now looked like he'd stuck his finger in an electrical socket.

Alan kissed his fingers like an Italian chef, "Beautiful."

Virgil folded his arms and nodded seriously, "Dismount was okay, landing not so good."

"I give it a three," Scott added finally.

John reacted with a silent middle finger and slapped the back of Alan's head on the way to the shower for good measure.

* * *

During breakfast the man responsible for designing the ship and gathering all of the high-flying people aboard – he had mentioned his name but Gordon had forgotten it immediately – spoke to the crowd once again. This time he encouraged them all to try the various recreational facilities on the ship: a gym, swimming pool, sauna, casino and even a tennis court were all available to the passengers free of charge. There were noticeably fewer people in the dining room than the previous day but Scott chalked it down to he and his brothers being a little late for their breakfast.

"What do you say, Scott," Virgil asked through a mouthful of croissant, "Fancy taking me on at the blackjack table?"

A dimpled smile got the raven haired brother's hopes up but then Scott shook his head.

"Not today, Virg. I'm going to have a closer look at the mechanics of this vessel and see how she works. Maybe we could exchange ideas for the Thunderbirds." And with that the eldest brother left the dining room, business hat firmly on his head.

Virgil shrugged and turned to John, "John? Me, you, cards?"

"No thanks, I quite like the sound of the sauna."

"Ugh!" Virgil downed his orange juice in one and got to his feet without even bothering to ask the terrible twins. There was no way they were going to go gambling with him. Alan wasn't even old enough for starters. "I'll go win the big bucks myself then."

Alan was looking at the brochure that listed all of the different activities, big blue eyes scouring for something to occupy his need for speed. With no race track readily available to passengers he opted for the arcade instead and headed off in that direction without another word, face buried in the brochure. John cleaned up their plates and then set off for the sauna as Gordon made his way to the main deck where the pool was located.

* * *

It was a little chilly out on the deck of the ship as Scott strolled along the broad walkway. Everything was so shiny and new and he felt bad for scuffing the polished wood as he walked. He seemed to be the only person around even though he and his brothers had been quite late for breakfast but he didn't mind the peace and quiet, especially as it meant he could enjoy the soft lapping of the ocean against the ship's sides. He leaned over the railing and looked down over the side of the enormous vessel; he was a good two hundred feet from the surface of the sea and could see the hundreds of windows spread out across the side of the ship where the cabins were located. It was certainly an impressive build and he was fascinated to know more about the fuel and craftsmanship.

Whistling as he went, Scott walked up the small steps to where the main bridge was located, overlooking the bow of the ship and knocked on the heavy steel door. When no one answered he cleared his throat purposefully and spoke loudly,

"Excuse me? It's Scott Tracy from International Rescue! Could I ask a few questions?"

No response.

"Maybe they slept in too," Scott joked to himself.

It was indeed strange, however, with no captain in sight and not even one member of the crew wandering around.

"Something isn't right here," he banged loudly once more on the door.

* * *

Gordon squinted up at the grey sky above him as he floated on his back in the warm water of the swimming pool. It was large enough to swim lengths but the aquanaut had opted to try and relax in the water for once rather than push himself to his limits as usual and he was even wearing his garish lime green trunks adorned with flamingos that Virgil hated so much. He sighed loudly as the clouds thickened and darkened and hoped that the rain would hold off until at least that afternoon.

His relaxation was short-lived as a woman who he recognised from a cheesy action film he'd watched years ago skittered past him. Her dyed blonde hair was flailing wildly behind her as she dragged her suitcase heavily across the deck and tried not to fall in her stiletto heels. She seemed to be in a rush and the look on her face was one Gordon had seen numerous times on rescues. The woman was _scared._ He swam to the edge of the pool and hoisted himself out, keeping his eyes on the woman as she continued towards the steps leading down the side of the ship.

"Are you okay?" Gordon asked but the woman simply glanced his way and continued on her mission. "Weird."

He slunk back into the pool, which he had all to himself for some unknown reason, and began swimming laps. The strange encounter was swept from his mind like the water he was swimming through and he soon forgot about the woman and her terrified expression.

* * *

Inside the casino Virgil Tracy was both confused and disappointed. Confused because he seemed to be the only gambler on the entire ship and disappointed because that meant he had no one to bet against. He plodded between the slot machines and empty tables where discarded cards lay, some of which were winning hands, and spun a roulette wheel gently as he passed. It was like a ghost town. Like the occupants of the casino had been beamed up or vaporised.

There could, of course, be a perfectly reasonable explanation for the lack of people; it was only a cruise for special guests and there were only about fifty guests on board the huge vessel so maybe nobody else fancied throwing away their well earned money. It was unlikely but definitely possible. Maybe the casino just wasn't open yet, that would certainly explain the lack of staff.

From the corner of his eye, Virgil spotted a man in a grey jumpsuit behind some of the slot machines. He looked oddly out of place in the plush setting of the casino with his oil-stained outfit but Virgil was just happy to see another human being. He walked over to where the man was packing up a large duffel bag and beamed his usual pearly smile.

"I was starting to think I'd wandered onto a ghost ship!"

The man started and simply stared at Virgil for a moment before nodding his head,

"Yeah..."

"Do you know where everyone is? Am I missing out on some big event or something?" Virgil asked as the man picked up his bag and turned for the exit.

"Not yet," the man mumbled and started to walk towards the door.

As he hurried forward, he knocked the large bag against a table and spilled the contents of it all over the floor. Spanners, nuts and bolts littered the red carpet and a large silver cylinder about the size of a flask rolled out too. Virgil picked up the cylinder which read 'Prototype: Not for commercial use' on the side and handed it to the man.

"Were you fixing one of the machines?" Virgil asked, one dark eyebrow cocked high.

"Yeah, a machine," the man answered as he fumbled to refill his bag and glanced at his watch, "I've got to go."

And with that he practically sprinted towards the exit, leaving Virgil once again confused.

* * *

"Wow, this sucks."

Alan tried the holographic display one more time to try and start the game but it simply beeped angrily at him and remained turned off. It was the fourth one he'd attempted to play and the fourth one that hadn't responded whatsoever. The entire arcade seemed to be a dead zone. There was no one around to ask either and the blonde teen was pretty miffed that he wouldn't be spending the entire day in front of a screen. He strolled around the arcade for another ten minutes trying various buttons and levers but none of the games were responding.

Not being the most patient of people, Alan soon gave up and made his way back into the corridor from which he'd entered. At least he _thought_ it was the same one. They all looked the same. Sure he would find his way eventually, he continued down the hallway until he came to a huge ornate door. A cloud of dust puffed up as he shoved it open, revealing an enormous grand hall complete with chandeliers and a tremendous circular stained glass window at one end. The room seemed unfinished, however, as the chairs were still wrapped tightly in plastic and the bare walls were unpainted.

"I wonder why they let us on when the ship isn't even finished yet," he said aloud to the room, as though asking the furniture itself.

With no response from the inanimate objects, Alan skipped over to the huge window and peered through the amber coloured glass. It overlooked the main deck of the ship and he could see Gordon swimming laps in the pool below. He could also see past his brother to where the lifeboats were lined up. Being such a modern ship, the lifeboats were more like mini yachts well equipped for sea travel and just as plush and luxurious as the rest of the liner. There didn't seem to be many though, compared to the size of the ship. Only two mini boats remained and from where he stood Alan could see a man in overalls helping a blonde woman get on board, almost falling over herself as she rushed to drag her suitcase on.

"Where the heck are they going?" Alan asked the room once more.

* * *

Before he had even made it to the sauna, John had noticed something wasn't quite right. He hadn't seen another soul in almost twenty minutes and he couldn't find a member of staff to even ask where the sauna _was_. A little dismayed, he made his way back to where he and his brothers had been staying and flopped onto one of the sofas. It was at times like this that he wished he was a little more prepared for things and cursed himself for not bringing his communicator with him. It had been his Grandmother's orders however to have some fun and 'let loose' and so none of the brothers had packed anything remotely International Rescue-ish.

John flicked on the TV, which was mainly static due to the approaching storm and remoteness of their location, and turned on the news. Perhaps he could distract himself with seeing how well the GDF was doing without them.

A man in a suit and a garish yellow tie was talking to the camera as an image of what looked like a ship sat in the corner of the screen. It was hard to tell what he was saying through the barrage of static and the picture kept flickering but John caught what sounded like '-fish has been stolen… -wasn't complete… -off course...'

He was about to try and change the channel when the image suddenly came into focus and the man's dulcet tones filled the room.

"The GDF are currently looking for the stolen cruise liner but it remains undetectable by radar and completely off the grid. We will keep you updated on this story throughout the day."

The image on the screen was undoubtedly the SS Swordfish, there was no mistaking the huge writing on the side of it.

"Oh, wonderful," John got to his feet and set off to find his brothers.

* * *

After banging on the door for almost five minutes, Scott gave up and opted to try and open it. To his surprise it swung open revealing the main bridge and a man in a captain's uniform.

"Oh!" Scott scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "I'm sorry. Nobody was answering so I just..."

The captain turned around and Scott immediately recognised him as the man who had been speaking to the passengers the previous day and at breakfast. Surely he wasn't the captain? Whoever he was he looked suddenly furious that Scott was in the room and rolled his eyes at someone behind the taller man.

"Oh now look!" The short man waved his arms exasperatedly, "He's not meant to be in here! He'll blow the whole thing!"

Another man stepped out of the shadows behind Scott, a metal rod in his hand.

"It's _fine_! Don't panic, we have everyone in the lifeboats and the ship's way off course."

Scott wheeled around, "What do you mean 'off course'? What's going on here?!"

He turned back to the man in the captain's outfit but his questioning was cut short as the metal rod the other man had been holding connected with the back of his skull, knocking him to the floor.

"Right, let's get off this thing before phase two starts!"

Scott watched helplessly as the men dashed out towards the remaining lifeboat and then darkness encased him.


	3. Phase 2

**Chapter Three: Phase 2**

The whirring of the engine of one of the lifeboats roused Gordon from his sleep. He hadn't even realised he'd nodded off but the lilo he was currently on must have lulled him to sleep as he floated around the pool. For a moment, he didn't have a clue where he was and thought that maybe he was back on Tracy Island, floating around in their home pool. The quiet hum of the ship and the lapping of the ocean against its sides reminded him that he was on board, however, and he quickly exited the pool and leaned over the railings just in time to see one of the lifeboats disembark.

"What the..."

He recognised one of the passengers as the blonde woman from earlier and for a brief moment she locked eyes with him. She still looked scared and even from so high up, Gordon heard her scream when the man in overalls beside her pulled out what looked like a gun. Forcefully, he shoved it in her back and she climbed down into the deck below, disappearing from sight. When the hatch was opened, Gordon caught a quick glance of the deck and it seemed to be filled with more of the 'special guests' that had been on the ship with him and his brothers. They all looked just as scared as the woman as the armed man slammed the hatch shut once more.

Gordon was about to go after the boat, maybe with the one remaining lifeboat that was left, when two men came rushing towards him. He recognised one as the man who had been addressing the passengers at breakfast and the other was someone he hadn't seen before; a tall, broad man with an angry looking scar down his left cheek and a bald head. Said man glared at Gordon as they passed and the shorter man shoved the aquanaut aside so that he could make his way down to the final remaining boat.

"Hey!" Gordon shouted as they marched on, "What's going on here?! Where are you taking those people?"

The short man smirked, revealing a shimmering gold tooth, " _Home_. As for you and your brothers, you'll be going down with the ship."

"Going down…? What are you talking about?!"

Gordon rushed at the man but the bald guy stepped between them and he ended up colliding with his chest forcefully. With ease, the bald man shoved Gordon aside knocking him on his backside and it was all Gordon could do to watch as the two men climbed aboard the final lifeboat and set sail away from the cruise liner.

"Gordon!"

It was John. He sprinted towards his brother with an unusual panic in his usually calm eyes.

"John! The host guy and all the other guests have gone! They sailed off in the lifeboats and this guy had a gun and I couldn't do anything and-"

John's raised hand silenced Gordon and he placed it gently on his shoulder,

"Yeah. I just saw the news. This ship wasn't meant to set sail for another month, it's not even finished! That guy who was talking to us all earlier must have somehow stolen it and threatened the guests too."

Gordon's eyebrows rose quizzically, "Why?"

John shrugged, "No idea. Maybe for the new fuel? Or to rob the guests?"

"Or maybe to get rid of International Rescue once and for all," Gordon whispered as his attention turned to the sky.

The redhead shook his head, hand firmly on his chin as he tried to think of an explanation, "But we could just take the ship back, no harm done. It's not like we'd be stranded here in the middle of the ocean."

"We would be if the ship sunk." The aquanaut's eyes were still plastered to the darkening sky above.

"That's highly unlikely, Gordon," John said matter-of-factly, "The probability of this enormous ship having a malfunction or crashing into something is-"

"What if a small plane crashed into it?" Gordon asked.

"That's even _more_ unlikely."

Gordon grabbed his brother's face and yanked it to where he was looking, up into the clouds above. There was certainly a storm on its way but that wasn't what worried the blonde. No, what had him panicked was the jet that was currently hurtling towards where they stood, nosediving in a spiral that could only mean that it was unmanned and unstoppable.

"Ah..."

* * *

Inside the main bridge, Scott forced himself upright and sat with his back against the main console. He rubbed the back of his head with his hand and from what he could see with his current double vision it was smeared with blood. With a groan he got to his feet shakily and habitually tapped his left shoulder to communicate with his brothers. His fingers connected with denim and he sagged a little. No comms.

"Guess I'll have to do this the old fashioned way."

Holding onto the various chairs and surfaces to keep himself standing, Scott manoeuvred himself towards the viewing window where he could see the main deck of the ship below him. From there he could see John's red hair gleaming in the light and Gordon beside him. He could only tell it was Gordon and not his blonde haired brother because of the outrageous swimming trunks he had on. Alan wouldn't be caught dead in something so garish.

Migraine now well and truly kicking in, Scott blinked through a wavy haze of fog and his eyes drifted to the space directly opposite where he was standing. About a hundred feet away, on the other end of the terrace, a huge round window with multicoloured glass filled a section of the ship that jutted out. It was obviously some sort of entertainment hall for banquets or balls of some description and seemed a little out of place on the otherwise modern ship. What was even _more_ out of place was the small human currently pressed up against the glass, big blue eyes glued to the sky.

"Alan?" Scott asked the empty room.

He followed his youngest sibling's gaze up to the sky and had merely seconds to react as the small jet pierced through the grey clouds and plunged into the ship like an enormous javelin piercing a tin can.

* * *

All Alan could do was stare as the plane hurtled down towards the ship at an alarming speed. He watched, eyes wide, as it flipped and swung out of control and then finally smashed nose-first into the swimming pool on the open air terrace just fifty feet from where he stood. The impact was deafening and knocked him off his feet for a moment, the sound of twisting metal and crunching glass filling his head.

Scrambling back onto his feet, Alan pressed his face to the still untouched stained glass and gasped at the sight beyond it. The unmanned, one-seated jet had pierced through the pool and sunk down into the main body of the ship. One wing had sliced into the terrace as if it was made of butter and the other had splintered from the body of the aircraft and cut down the side of the ship like a knife. Thick black plumes of smoke billowed into the sky, blocking the teenager's view of anything more.

Through the smoke something caught Alan's eye. Sparks had started to shoot up from the cockpit, just meters from where the fuel tank was belching liquid onto the terrace.

* * *

Even with the fast reaction times from years of training, Gordon and John Tracy couldn't get away fast enough. They watched helplessly as the jet hurtled directly towards them and sprinted as far from it as they could in the few short moments before it crashed into the ship.

It hit the swimming pool nose-first, like an untrained diver, and sent water splashing out of it by the gallon. The fake grass that covered the terrace suddenly became an oil slick and both Gordon and John skidded wildly. Gordon thudded onto his side harshly and the momentum sent him hurtling towards the railings on the side of the ship where he slammed his left arm and the side of his face. He watched through stars as John also lost his footing but the astronaut wasn't as light on his feet as his Earth-bound brothers and ended up whacking into the wing as it sheered from the body of the plane. It caught him in the ribs and John felt something crunch and crack inside himself as the wing swung above his head.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion for Gordon, much like it did when he went diving, but he managed to crawl towards his brother on his hands and knees as smoke began to pump out of the debris. He coughed harshly and swung his right arm to try and disperse the black clouds, to no avail.

"John!" he hacked and spluttered as he crawled underneath the wing that had hit his sibling, "John where are you?!"

A wheezing cough was his response but he welcomed it nonetheless and followed the sound to where John was standing stooped over, his arms held against his abdomen. The smoke was far too intense to stay where they were but it was also disorientating; neither of them could tell which way they should head to try and get away from the wreckage.

* * *

Unlike his brothers who had tried to run _away_ from the incoming aircraft, Scott burst out of the main bridge and practically _flew_ down the steps before sprinting _towards_ it. The initial impact knocked him off his feet but his determination to save his siblings soon brought him back into his run and he was suddenly inside the black cloud of smoke before he had even realised he'd left the bridge.

Having piloted many smaller aircraft such as the one that was currently adorning the ship, Scott knew that they were prone to setting on fire and in some cases even exploding. With that knowledge spurring him forward, he pressed on through the smoke until he was abruptly face to face with Gordon. At least he _thought_ it was Gordon, his face was blackened by the smoke and the left side had started to swell up painfully.

"Scott?!"

He waved meekly, "Hi."

Gordon wheezed as he yanked John against his side, trying to keep him upright and Scott scooped John's other arm around his neck and started to pull away from the wreckage.

"What the hell is happening?" Scott asked aloud.

"John saw something on the news and-" Gordon coughed as he inhaled some of the thick smoke, "He thinks someone is trying to get rid of _us_!"

"Bit of an elaborate way to go about it don't you think?"

Finally they stepped into a space on the terrace that wasn't totally engulfed in smoke and John dropped to his knees, as did Gordon as he coughed up what he hoped wasn't his lungs. Not wanting to hang around near the possible explosion, Scott grabbed his brothers' hands and pulled them to their feet once more.

"Come on," he said sternly, "We need to get away from the blast zone. It could go up at any moment." His blue eyes widened and his dark eyebrows suddenly knitted together tightly.

"What is it?" John asked feebly as he tried to straighten up.

"Alan."

Scott tilted his head towards the huge round window that was positioned just above where the jet had crashed. Through the thick smoke he and his brothers could see Alan's small frame just behind the glass, silhouetted as he gawked at the crash site.

"If that thing blows..." John didn't want to finish the thought.

Scott was already moving back towards the downed plane, all thoughts of trying to get safe gone from his mind as he imagined his littlest brother being in the path of the inevitable explosion. Two hands soon dragged him back, however, as John and Gordon watched the sparks begin to fly from the cockpit of the jet.

"It's going to explode!" Gordon gestured wildly to the fuel pumping out of the engine.

"Exactly!" Scott said as he shrugged off the blonde's hold, "Alan is right above it!"

"But we'll be injured too if we get any closer," John added, a look of pain etched on his dusty face.

Scott stopped struggling to pull free and turned to face his brothers, "We need to at least warn him."

"Yeah," Gordon agreed, "But how?"

* * *

Whatever warning the three had in mind it would be too late. Alan was still staring, wide eyed at the mass of twisted metal and plumes of smoke, almost hypnotised by it, when a string of sparks skittered from what remained of the dashboard of the plane and turned into a small flame. It grew quickly, soon turning into a raging fire until a wisp of it slithered down from the metal and ignited against the soaked surface of the terrace.

Morbidly fascinated, Alan followed the fire as it looped and snaked along the path of fuel until it reached the main engine, which was exposed to the air having been completely torn from the rest of the plane. An enormous, deafening _BOOM!_ took over every one of his senses and suddenly fire was all Alan could see.

The explosion was huge, bigger than he'd expected, and the force of it pushed the glass from the giant round window he had been looking through towards him. Everything happened so fast then. Shards of coloured glass surrounded him as he hurtled backwards into the hall through the air, spinning and twirling just as the jet had minutes earlier. Alan felt what seemed like hundreds of tiny shards cut into his skin as he flew backwards for what felt like forever. Something sharp pierced his chest just below his collarbone and then he stopped flying abruptly, his wings suddenly clipped as he collided with the wall. His lifeless body flopped to the floor like a rag doll as the fire crept in through the gaping hole where the window had once been.


	4. Tracy Luck

**Chapter Four: Tracy Luck**

As Virgil Tracy dawdled through the abandoned slot machines, pressing their flashing buttons now and then but receiving no response, he suddenly felt a deep rumbling. It vibrated through his bones and caused him to stop and stare at the ceiling. Something was approaching the ship. Something very large and very fast. He was about to step onto the veranda to try and see what it could be when whatever it was suddenly collided with the ship. The ceiling buckled and cracked inwards like the top of a crème brûlée and a huge piece of cone-shaped metal burst through into the casino, knocking Virgil off his feet.

It stabbed into one of the blackjack tables, which creaked and snapped under the weight, and continued to gouge through the floor to the rooms below. Virgil's dark eyes took in the scene before him; some sort of jet had somehow pierced the ship and buried its way through the deck. How or why, he had no idea but he didn't want to wait around to find out if it was lodged securely.

With a swiftness that didn't suit his burly frame, he hopped over some of the fallen slot machines that had tumbled like dominoes and tried to squeeze past the wing of the plane that was currently blocking the exit. For once, Virgil's broad shoulders were more of a hindrance than a help and there was just no way for him to slide his body through the tiny gap without first removing his arms. He cursed under his breath and tried to shove the metal aside but it was still attached to the main body of the plane, albeit weakly.

Determined to get out of the casino, he made his way back to the slot machines and the nose of the jet, peering down the hole which it had created in the floor. It was a long way down to the next floor and there was no way he could jump down without being injured, nor did he have any handy grappling or climbing gear in his pockets. A third plan was starting to form in Virgil's mind when an almighty _BOOM!_ echoed from the part of the plane that was still in the open air above and the nose of the jet suddenly tore away from the rest of it. Grinding metal tore through the ceiling and the nose ripped further through the floor, along with the wing that cut through the side of the ship with an ear-splitting screech. The weight of the aircraft was too much for the weakened floor of the casino and the wood began to splinter and crack before suddenly giving way altogether. Arms and legs flailing wildly, Virgil fell through the air beside the front of the plane and landed on the next floor down with a _thud_.

All he could see were black spots as his head buzzed and his ears rang. Every bone in his body felt like it was in the wrong position and every joint felt full of gravel but he soldiered on and managed to sit upright, quickly assessing himself as he did so.

"Nothing broken… I _think._ "

He looked at the tangle of metal just a few feet from where he sat. It looked like a giant tin can that had been in the garbage disposal, some of it still glowing with heat from whatever explosion had sent it crashing down. As he thanked whatever greater power or luck had saved him from being squished like a bug underneath the jet, Virgil looked up through the hole he had just fallen through just in time to see the slot machines start to fall.

"Ah, crud."

* * *

"Alan!"

The explosion had knocked the three brothers off their feet but they were soon back on them as the smoke cleared and they could see the full array of damage it had caused. The front of the jet had completely disappeared into the ship itself, along with one of the wings. The other wing was still wedged in the side of the ship like a carving knife and the engine had burst into a thousand pieces of twisted, sharp metal all across the terrace, some of which was bigger than their heads.

Scott's attention was completely concentrated on the giant round hole where the ornate window had previously been. The glass had totally vanished from where it had been, blown back into the hall in a million shards of amber and rose coloured fragments. Not only that but flames had started to lick and flicker across the empty space and would soon engulf the entire hall. And Alan was nowhere to be seen.

"We need to get into that room!"

Scott pointed to the gaping window and started towards it, leaving Gordon and John to follow quickly behind. Well, as quickly as they could. Gordon's face was swollen and his left arm dangled at his side like the catch of the day. John wasn't much better; he could feel at least two broken ribs as he forced himself to follow behind his big brother closely. Not one of them complained, however, as their attention was solely focused on finding their smallest brother, hopefully safe and sound.

Quickly, Scott climbed the steps up to the next level where the window was. The flames were starting to really catch and he had to step back as the ocean wind pulled them further towards him.

"Now what?" Gordon asked as he shielded his naked torso from the flames.

Scott took off his jacket and wrapped it around the blonde, making Gordon look like a kid in his father's clothes.

"I don't know," the eldest Tracy shook his head, annoyed at himself for not thinking of something immediately.

"Why don't we just use the door?" John asked matter-of-factly as he held open a side door to the huge room.

Gordon smiled and Scott patted the redhead on the back _gently_ as they stepped inside.

The scene was no better inside the hall. Tables and chairs were strewn across the scorched floor, some of which were still on fire, and shards of glass both small and large littered the room, twinkling in the light of the encroaching flames. Smoke made it difficult to see clearly but a moan from the far end of the room caught Scott's attention and he made a beeline for the familiar tones of his brother. He found Alan lying on his side, back pressed against the wall and covered in broken glass. It was almost as if it had been placed on him carefully, like icing on an Alan-shaped cake.

Scott knelt down beside his brother, careful not to rest on any shards, "Hey, Allie! What're you doing down here?"

"Oh, you know," Alan winced as something tugged at his chest, "Just exploding and stuff."

"Idiot," Gordon scoffed but the others knew it was just his way of coping with seeing his little brother in such a state.

"Can you sit up?" Scott asked. He was trying to be gentle but could feel the heat of the approaching fire just metres behind them.

Alan nodded and let his brother pull him into a seated position. From there Scott could see the full extent of the damage. Alan's shirt had been torn into shreds by the glass and hundreds of tiny fragments adorned his skin like shimmering tattoos. That wasn't what worried him, however. No, what made Scott's skin prickle was the palm-sized shard of glass that was jutting from Alan's chest just beneath his collar bone on his right side. A steady trickle of blood oozed around it and every time Alan adjusted his right arm, he paled a little more. Scott looked up at John and the astronaut spoke quietly.

"We shouldn't take it out. We don't know what it's pierced."

"Agreed," Scott nodded and turned back to Alan, "We need to get out of here, okay? The fire is getting too close."

A little dazed but still coherent, Alan nodded feebly, "Okay."

With Gordon's help, Scott lifted Alan onto his feet and started to pull him towards the door through which they had entered. John followed closely behind but suddenly stepped back as a piece of the ceiling tumbled and landed in flames between himself and his brothers, blocking his path.

* * *

The slot machines fell slowly at first; lazily dropping through the gaping hole of the casino floor with heavy _thunks_ at either side of Thunderbird 2's pilot. Virgil rolled side to side to avoid them and finally felt the brunt of his earlier fall as more and more bruises seemed to be appearing all over his body. His left cheek bone was turning purple, like he'd gone a few rounds in the boxing ring, and his right knee throbbed dully as he got onto all fours to try and crawl away from the giant rectangular raindrops.

A machine with a dragon painted on the side of it flopped through the hole and landed just a few feet from Virgil as he continued to crawl towards the newly formed hole in the side of the room, caused by the plane's wing. As he moved closer to the fresh air, smelling the scent of the ocean through the wounded ship, another rumble indicated that more machines were falling and Virgil turned just in time to see three of them tumbling down towards him. With his back to the wall there was nowhere else to run to and one of the machines knocked him to the floor as it fell, crushing his right leg and pinning him in place.

A yelp of pain escaped his lips and Virgil tried his best to shove the machine off of himself but it was tightly wedged and he wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

"Um… Help?" he mumbled to the empty room as the floor beneath him began to crack.

* * *

"John!" Scott yelled over the rising flames as Gordon dragged Alan onto the deck outside.

The redheaded astronaut coughed, causing his broken ribs to scream out in protest, as the smoke began to worsen and the flames grew higher. Scott attempted to move closer to try and get around the fallen ceiling but it was no use, it was far too hot.

"Go, Scott!" John yelled over the roaring flames, "Go help Alan, I'll be right out!"

" _How_ exactly?" Scott asked as he backed a little more towards the door, away from the scorching heat.

John hadn't exactly thought that far ahead. He was trapped between the physical wall and the wall of fire that was fast approaching him. He could feel the heat of the flames licking at his clothes and the beads of sweat that were running down his face, not only from the intense heat but from the pain inside his abdomen too. There was no way he could get out of there without somehow overcoming the fire but he couldn't even see an extinguisher to try and dull the flames. _That's right,_ he thought, _the ship isn't even finished yet._

"You're gonna have to jump!" Scott hadn't gone anywhere. There was no way he was just going to leave one of his brothers in a burning room to fend for himself.

" _Jump_?!" John repeated, making sure he'd heard his big brother correctly.

Scott nodded and opened his arms out wide, "Yes! Jump over the rubble, I'll catch you!"

John raised a questioning eyebrow, "Oh will you?"

"Come on!" Scott tried a smile to lighten the mood but it just made him look slightly deranged, "Trust your big brother!"

John rolled his eyes and nodded, there was no other option anyway. In a few more minutes the entire hall would be engulfed in flames. He stepped back a little and rocked on his heels before making a dash for the pile of burning rubble that had been the ceiling just a few minutes earlier. With as much energy as his aching ribs would allow, John made a leap towards Scott. It wasn't exactly _elegant_ but he managed to clear most of the flames, only feeling a sharp burning on his hands as the fire licked at them hungrily. Once clear of the danger, John wasn't caught by Scott, more like he collided with him head first. They tumbled into a pile of gangly arms and legs and the eldest quickly dragged the disoriented astronaut out of the hall and onto the safety – well _more_ safe at least – of the deck outside.

Gordon, who was still hunched over Alan protectively, turned to look at his gasping siblings and frowned as though scolding a child,

"Took you long enough!"

Without pausing for breath, Scott marched over to the blondes and knelt down beside Alan, who had paled to almost transparency. The shard of glass was still jutting out from beneath his collarbone like a huge ornate brooch but the bleeding seemed to have lessened a little. Whether that was a good or bad thing Scott wasn't quite sure.

"What should we do?" Gordon asked, big brown eyes looking up to Scott for all the answers as usual.

"I don't know."

Scott's dark eyebrows knitted together as he ran through some scenarios in his mind. What if they took it out and he bled out? What if they left it in and the open wound got infected somehow? How was he supposed to know what to do? He usually just saved the person and then handed them to the hospital to deal with the after care. Sure, he'd looked after his brothers when they were sick or bruised their knee but this was _way_ different than a slight scrape. Sensing Scott's worry, Alan tilted his head towards him and sat up a little more to show he wasn't totally out of it yet.

"Take it out."

Scott's jaw worked a little, "You sure?"

Alan nodded and grinned, showing his youthfulness, "I can't walk about with this sticking out of me forever. It doesn't match my outfit," he turned to Gordon, "Maybe if _he_ was wearing it sure, but me? No way."

"Hey!" Gordon chastised, "I'll have you know my fashion sense is the best in the Tracy family."

That made all four of them laugh.

* * *

Meanwhile, three floors beneath his brothers, Virgil could feel the floor creaking beneath where he was pinned. There was no way he could move, either, as his leg was well and truly jammed beneath the slot machine and by the way it was quickly going numb, he didn't hold much hope for it being unscathed. He was sweating too, perspiration dripping down his face. No wait, not sweat but water. Water was dripping on him from somewhere.

Twisting to see the source of the dripping, Virgil turned his head and saw the wing of the jet just beside him. It had pierced the wall, exposing the room to the elements a little and it was raining outside. Through the small gash in the plaster, Virgil could see the approaching storm clouds as they rumbled with thunder and covered the sky above the ship like a thick, heavy blanket. One that would smother them if the ship took much more damage.


	5. Wonderland

**Chapter Five: Wonderland**

"After three, okay? One… Two-"

Scott didn't bother with the 'three' in the hopes that it would catch Alan off guard and pulled the shard of glass from his chest with a sickening squelch.

"I knew you were going to do that," Alan croaked as blood began to soak his shirt.

Scott, John and Gordon had taken him back to the main bridge where there was thankfully a small first aid kit. It wasn't exactly hospital standard but it had some gauze, band aids and a little antiseptic lotion inside. As the eldest Tracy placed the blood-stained shard of amber glass to the side, he quickly pressed some gauze to Alan's bleeding wound, keeping pressure on it as best he could. Scott's head was throbbing but he didn't have time to worry about himself when his brothers seemed so much worse off than him.

The squid of the family _looked_ the worst what with his swollen cheek and clearly broken arm; it hung loosely at his side, jutting out awkwardly at the elbow. John, however, was what worried Scott the most. The astronaut was currently sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. He was bent forwards over himself with his hands at his sides, both of which looked raw from the flames earlier. He made a mental note to check him over once he was done with the youngest.

Thankfully, Alan's bleeding seemed to be slowing down as Scott placed a fresh gauze against the gash and secured it with some tape. He handed him some painkillers from the small kit and the blonde took them with a grimace, never one to enjoy pills. With a gentle hand, Scott ruffled Alan's hair and turned his attention to Gordon, who was crouched beside Alan like a second shadow.

"How's the arm?" Scott asked as he carefully lifted the broken limb.

Gordon shrugged, "I'll live."

"What about your face?"

"Still as handsome as ever," Gordon smiled.

"I don't know about 'handsome'," Scott teased as he tore a sleeve from his shirt and made it into a makeshift sling. "Let's put it in a sling for now."

"Where do you think Virg is?" Gordon asked, eyes suddenly serious.

"I'll go look for him after I've patched you three up."

"I'll go too," John added.

"Me too!" Alan beamed.

There was no use arguing with them, they all wanted to find Virgil and figure out a plan to get back to the mainland as soon as possible.

After tending to Gordon's arm and offering him some pain medication – which he refused so they could keep it for Alan – Scott scooted over to John. It looked like the redhead had fallen asleep the way he was hunched over but his aquamarine eyes met his brother's as he moved closer.

"How is he?" John nodded towards Alan and coughed, wincing as he did so.

"Okay for now. What about you? You look kind of… _green_."

It was true, John's face had taken on a deathly pallor. His eyes seemed almost sunken and every time he breathed he seemed to be in pain.

"Just a couple of broken ribs I think," he coughed again and hissed through his teeth, "I had a fight with a plane and the plane won."

"Let's see."

With as much care as he could, Scott lifted John's shirt to reveal his slim torso. He had always been the most gangly sibling and space really wasn't the best workout for the body so he always remained leaner than his brothers. John wasn't unfit though, there was still shadows of muscle and abs beneath the surface of his pale ginger skin, hidden beneath the scattering of freckles. The freckles weren't so visible now, however. What covered most of John's torso was an angry purple and black bruise that snaked around his ribs and down his stomach. It reminded Scott of some sort of twisted nebula and he had to smile at the irony. The spaceman with space on his body.

"How does it look?" John grimaced.

"Do you want the truth or a nice lie?" Scott asked as he pulled down his brother's shirt.

"Bit of both?"

Scott pasted a smile on his tired face, "It's bruised to heck but it looks pretty cool."

A bark of laughter escaped John's lips and he gripped his side awkwardly, "Ow. Thanks, Scotty."

"What about your hands?" Scott lifted John's hands onto his lap, palm-upwards, and touched the raw skin gently, "We should wrap them in something."

Without another word, Scott dragged the first aid box towards where John was hunched over and used some of the gauze and antiseptic lotion to wrap his hands. John's hands were trembling with the pain but he didn't make a sound, never one to make a fuss. When Scott had finished wrapping them (his medical skills weren't as good as Virgil's and he'd done an awkward job of it) he sat back and sighed, only to end up leaning against Gordon.

The aquanaut had crept up behind his eldest brother and was now kneeling so that he could reach the back of Scott's head with his one good arm. He poked at the nape of his neck and Scott yipped.

"Hey! What're you doing?!"

Gordon rolled his eyes and started to dab away the dried blood on Scott's head with some cotton pads, "Don't think we didn't notice you're hurt too, bro. Now sit still while I patch you up, we don't want your brains falling out."

"He has to _have_ them to start with for that to happen," Alan quipped.

"Ha ha, so funny guys," but Scott smiled nonetheless as Gordon haphazardly slapped a band aid on his head.

* * *

Virgil stared up through the gaping hole that the jet had caused. He could see the darkening sky above and kept getting big drops of rain on his face as it dribbled down the edges of the torn hole, making him shiver slightly. With his leg still trapped beneath the slot machine, he hadn't been able to move from his position and the cracks in the floor had started to spread like thick vines winding around his body. He seemed to be just counting down the minutes until the floor gave way and he had to tumble down like Alice in Wonderland once again.

Suddenly the rain stopped trickling onto his face and something was blocking his view of the rain clouds. He squinted up through the hole and saw two bright blue eyes peering down at him, like those of an angel or in this case, a brown-haired mother hen.

"Virg!" Scott hollered down the hole and his hand slipped, almost sending him hurtling down there with his brother.

Virgil felt his shoulders relax a little at the sight of his big brother and he forced a smile onto his tired face.

"You're blocking my view!" he shouted up, although his voice came out a little weaker than he'd anticipated, "What the hell happened out there?"

Scott shrugged theatrically so that Virgil could see the gesture, "A plane crashed into the ship, no big deal."

That made Virgil chuckle as he readjusted himself to try and wake up his trapped leg. He hadn't been able to feel it for a while and, although he wasn't looking forward to the pain, he really would prefer to have _some_ sensation in it. Scott squinted down at his brother, brown hair dripping with the heavier rainfall.

"You stuck?"

Virgil nodded, "Yup. Well and truly," he looked around anxiously at the widening cracks in the floor beneath him, "Well, not for long if this floor gives way."

"We're coming down!"

Scott yelled and then disappeared before Virgil could respond. Not that it would have done any good; when his eldest sibling had his mind set on something there was nothing he could do or say that would change it. Instead of protesting, Thunderbird 2's pilot rested his head back against the wall and tried to relax a little. Now that he knew his brothers were coming to the rescue, he had a little time to regain his strength and prepare for whatever else the universe had to throw at him.

* * *

Up on the terrace, the three brothers were trying to think of the best way to get down to Virgil. Alan had suggested abseiling down through the hole the jet had made but they didn't have any rope or harnesses. Gordon thought that maybe they could just climb down, although how he thought he was going to climb with only one working arm Scott had no idea. Finally, John came up with the simplest plan: use the stairs. The steps down to the lower decks were still accessible and seemed the easiest way to get to the casino level.

It took longer than it could have, what with Alan and John lagging behind slightly more than usual, but finally they reached the level where the casino was located. The wing of the plane had slipped a little more, cutting through the side of the ship almost to sea level but it meant that they could now see Virgil through the large hole in the wall of the casino. If he hadn't been pinned down by the slot machine, he could have simply stepped through the hole and joined them.

"Ah, the cavalry!" Virgil joked as Scott and Gordon climbed through the hole. He absorbed the state of Gordon's makeshift sling and the awkwardly placed gauze on the back of Scott's head and shook his head, smiling, "Remind me to teach you lot some medical skills when we get home."

"Hey! We did our best!" Gordon huffed.

"You should see Alan," Scott spoke as he circled the slot machine, trying to figure out how to get it off his brother, "He's patched up pretty good."

"And John's a mess as usual," Gordon added.

"Hey," John clicked his tongue as he helped Alan through the hole, "I _can_ hear you."

Alan gave Virgil an unexpected hug, which Scott blamed on the amount of pain meds he'd forced his little brother to take, and Gordon and Scott prepared to manoeuvre the machine off of Virgil's leg. They were about to push it off when an almighty rumble shook the room and the wing that had been lodged in the side of the ship scraped further downwards, finally shaking loose and connecting with the ocean. The force of it pulled the cracks in the floor the brothers were currently standing on apart and then everything happened in a blur.

The floor seemed to disappear beneath them and all five Tracy brothers tumbled downwards in a cascade of limbs and rubble and jagged metal. With five _thuds!_ they landed on the floor below, a hallway with a plush red carpet and flickering lights, and gathered themselves one by one.

"Oww..." Alan moaned as he got onto all fours, not sure that he trusted himself to be able to stand just yet, "Everything hurts."

"Tell me about it," Virgil muttered as he sat up, rubbing his head.

He was finally free of the slot machine but his knee had swollen up badly and felt like someone was stabbing him with a hot poker when he tried to bend his leg. Biting his lip to silence the scream that wanted to escape him, he brought his attention to his other brothers. Alan's wound was bleeding again, staining his shirt as it dribbled down into the waistband of his shorts. Gordon was cradling his arm and grimacing as Scott emerged from a pile of rubble at the other side of the corridor. His chocolate hair was dappled with debris but he seemed otherwise unharmed.

"Everyone okay?" he asked automatically.

"My leg's busted," Virgil said as he grabbed the wall and hoisted himself onto his one good leg.

"Alan's bleeding again" Gordon moved over to his little brother and pressed the gauze harder into Alan's chest to try and quell the bleeding a little.

"Where's John?" Scott asked anxiously as his big blue eyes orbited the space around him.

For a moment, none of the brothers could see the astronaut and it made Scott sick to his stomach as he searched frantically with his eyes, trying desperately to see John. It was only when Virgil cursed loudly that he was able to breathe again as he absorbed the sight of the redhead sprawled underneath some of the rubble. Scott cleared it away swiftly and turned John over so that he could look at his face. Thunderbird 5's pilot still looked sickly but he wasn't bleeding anywhere that Scott could see and all of his limbs were still attached – a plus if ever there was one.

"John?" Scott tapped his face a little but he didn't stir, "John, wake up!"

"Is he _dead_?!" Alan gasped and wrestled with Gordon to try and get closer to his unconscious brother.

Gordon slapped the back of Alan's head with his good hand, "He isn't dead, idiot!"

"You two will be if you don't shut up!" Virgil snapped as he bent down to get a better look at the astronaut.

"What is it?" Scott asked, a little desperation in his usually calm voice.

"He's just knocked out," Virgil winced as he hopped back onto his good leg, "He should come round in a minute or two."

Exhausted from the day already – it was only ten thirty in the morning – Scott sat back against the wall and rested his head on his knees. He could feel sleep trying to overtake him but the adrenaline in his veins was taking the lead, urging him upright and forcing him to take command. He was about to gather his brothers and lead them back upstairs when his back suddenly felt damp, and not just from perspiration. Slowly, as though not wanting to disturb a great sleeping beast, Scott turned to face the wall and stared at the hundreds of hairline cracks that were forming before his very eyes. He placed his palm against it and was amazed when the wall seemed to be breathing, in and out, in and out. When he took his hand away it was dripping with water and everything suddenly clicked into place. Water. Breathing. Cracks. The plane's wing had cut down the side of the ship, almost slicing it open completely, and the ocean could now converge on its decks.

Scott watched helplessly as the cracks began to peel open and spurts of water splashed through, hitting his face and arms. He looked up and saw the entire wall was leaking, spurting water like a great fountain in a town square.

"Guys, we need to move. _Now_!"


End file.
